I Would Give It All, if Only for a Moment
by JustSeekingGreaterThings
Summary: And the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of it's own. It talks in tongues and quiet sighs and prayers and proclamations. In the grand days of great men, and the smallest of gestures, in short shallow gasps. But with all my education; I can't seem to command it and the words are all escaping and coming back all damaged. I would put them back in poetry if I knew how.
1. All of This and Heaven Too

~There's a semi-prequel to this that you can read here: s/8942112/1/Burn-the-Memory. However, this can be read without it. Titles and blurbs are all lyrics from Florence and the Machine; I take no credit for them. ~

_I can't seem to command it  
__And the words are all escaping,  
__And coming back all damaged,  
__And I would put them back in poetry,  
__If I only knew how,  
__I can't seem to understand it._

_And I would give all this and heaven too, _  
_I would give it all if only for a moment, _  
_That I could just understand _  
_The meaning of the word, you see, _  
_'Cause I've been scrawling it forever, _  
_But it never makes sense to me at all._

"No one cares that you're broken, Cas," Dean's green eyes hardened with contempt towards the angel. They both knew that was a lie; Dean's heart was actually in shambles over the mess Cas turned into to save Sam. The hunter drowned in despair at how unlike Cas his angel acted. They knew that Dean's hostility was a bluff, even after the false-god fiasco, there was nothing the angel could do that would make Dean really despise him, ever. But still, Castiel knew denying Dean's request to fight the Leviathans would upset the hunter. The feeling clouded the angel in shame and guilt, but he shouldn't feel this way; the whole reason why he was refusing to fight was for the sake of Dean. If he joined, he would just slow down the Winchesters; they'd have no chance of winning. He knew that; Meg knew it; the Leviathans know it; why wouldn't Dean see?

"I'm not 'broken,'" at least he wasn't when it came to his mental stability. After last year, no part of Cas had desired divinity; he just wanted to be there for the Winchesters when he was ready; to prove his loyalty… and be forgiven by Dean.

That was the worst end from playing god.

Not being a target of demons and angels; not having his vessel burning from the inside out; not even being crushed by the leviathans.

The worst part was making Dean think he wasn't the first thing on Castiel's mind; the reason for all of his actions. His entire existence on earth was for the sandy blonde hunter, and remembering the day he sent the souls back, Castiel knew that Dean knew that. Why weren't his feelings completely blended into Dean's mind?

It was obvious that- given the current predicament- that the reunion between Castiel and Dean wouldn't result in a moment of passion. But he'd expected some hint that Dean's emission of love that day wasn't just a fluke, and that everything the angel thought was shared between the two of them really was.

"The first thing you did after seeing me was tell me to pull your finger," there was a bittersweet sparkle in Dean's eyes, "you never joked before, and you wouldn't have done such a stupid one like 'pull my finger.' But that doesn't mean anything: we need you, Cas," there was a soft desperate _I need you _that transgressed from the hunter's thoughts to the angel, though neither would bring it up, "we have no one left to help us; in case you haven't realized, all of our other friends are dead."

"I'm not exactly the best help you can get. I'm honestly just-"

"Do you really think Sammy and I even have a chance of doing this job alone?" the green eyes looked like they would suddenly glass over in attempt to push back tears, "I mean every fucking fight we have, Cas, I fuck it up somehow. Something always goes wrong: Bobby gets crippled; we begin the apocalypse; Pamela dies; Jo dies, Ellen, Anna, Gabriel; they're all fucking dead; not to forget Sam going to hell; I fuck up the one shot I'll ever be able to get at having a normal white picket family; and the worst is having to repeatedly lose the being that I lo-"

Castiel's head tilts sideways the same way it so often does, praying- for the first time since looking for his father the previous year- that the incredulous hunter would just finish that sentence. It really couldn't be that hard: Castiel has heard plenty of people say 'love' out on the streets as though the words were just play things, Dean could so easily say them to Cas. Dean had released an exhausted- Castiel couldn't define whether it was from mental exhaustion or sleep deprivation- sigh and shifted his gaze to the ground, lifting his arm to rub the back of his neck.

"I'm bad luck Cas, okay?" Dean's voice was drenched with self-loathing (the amount of contempt the hunter held towards himself was the first thing to break Castiel's heart and would continue doing so each time Dean was drunk with guilt) "I'm not a fucking hero, and if I was I'm not the one the Earth deserves, but that damn well doesn't mean I won't try. Because if there's a chance that I can save people- no matter how unlikely it is I'll get through it- I'm going to fucking try. And I know you, and I know you feel the same way Cas. We've done so much and apart from Sam, you're the only person I completely trust to fight on my side. You may not agree with me, but I _know_ you can do this. So, I'd rather have you, cursed or not."

Even though Castiel still didn't have fully developed people skills, he was able to read Dean's mood. The angel smiled to himself and, although it was small, he might as well have had an open-toothed grin on his face. Dean looked at the angel bewildered and had his head cocked in a manner identical to the way he so often saw his friend have.

"What?" although the blonde had tried to appear apathetic- coarse even- but a grin was subconsciously growing on his visage.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable," Castiel's voice was ringing with splendour, "but I detect a note of forgiveness."

"Oh my god, you are so full of shit, let's just go," Dean started walking to the Impala and-

"Dean," the hunter turned back and the angel was moving closer, feeling his vessel's heart rate increase in pace. Castiel knew he was entering what Dean called his 'personal space,' but it didn't seem to bother the taller. ""We might die tomorrow; in fact, there's a huge probability that-"

"Way to be optimistic, Cas."

"Let me finish," Castiel momentarily scanned Dean's face, as though committing the expression to memory, before reconnecting the ice blue with green, "we might die tomorrow, and this whole thing might be over, but you deserve to know how sorry I am for everything I've caused."

"Cas, you don't need to pre-"

"I'm not faking this, Dean," the raspy voice hardened, "I truly regret and wish I could take back all of this: the going behind your back, working with Crowley, breaking Sam's wall, opening Purgatory, everything. This whole situation's my fault, and I truly am… sorry. If I could do anything to make amends- anything for you to see me with half the light you used to… just know that if I die tomorrow, that I do not find a more honourable cause of death than to die aiding you."

"Don't talk like that," the words didn't have the same deepness that it normally had- starting to crack with each proceeding syllable, "you're- fuck- you're doing enough- so much more than enough- with _everything_. Fuck, you took Sam's insanity and lived it for him; you let yourself get tortured by Lucifer so that my baby brother would stop being hurt. You're already talking about tomorrow like you're done, and no one deserves your sacrifice Cas, especially not me."

"The inaccuracy of your statement is palpable."

"Why would you think that; what could possible possess you to think I'm worth your death? Again."

"You know exactly why, Dean. You have to. You must remember the day I returned the souls to Purgatory; you were able to read every sort of emotional and thought process my grace emitted. You know exactly the feelings I harbour for you," the silence had pressed an unbearable weight on the pair's shoulders, "I love you, Dean Winchester. I love how loyal you are to the people you care about; I love the way you would literally go to hell and back for your brother; I love how stubborn you are and how you never back down without cause; I love the way that you sacrifice yourself for the good of the public; I love the lines around your eyes that prove not everything in life was unjust to you. The emotions I have for you are stronger than any I've felt towards anyone- including my father. I went into hell to save you; I fell for you; I've died for you, and I would face an eternity of torture if it meant you had a chance of being safe. And never, ever, think you're anything less than the most righteous; purest; most beautiful creation my father ever made, because that's exactly what you are and-"

"Castiel," both men were momentarily shocked at the use of the angel's full name, "I just… I know, okay, and I, well… you know, and fuck I'm an asshole. Just… stay still while I try something, alright?" Castiel nodded in response and felt his grace growing lighter, similar to what people would refer to as 'butterflies.'

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment before stepping forward, leaving mere centimetres between the two. He'd reached his hands towards the angel, but quickly dropped them in anxiety. Castiel then realized exactly what was going to happened and sent calming thoughts to his- actually _his-_ hunter. A deep breath was released before the blonde's head started moving closer again; Castiel was barely able to perceive the pastel green eyes, slowly being lidded by thick lashes. He'd thought Dean was simply closing his eyes, but then noticed the hunter was gazing at Castiel's lips, drinking in the image. The angel knew from seeing the act so many times that he was expected to close his eyes, but he didn't. He wouldn't; the angl had waited years for this and he would make sure he'd remember the sight of Dean's face approaching his own. The proceeding moments felt agonizingly longer than the rest of existence, and the moment Dean's lips melted into Castiel's the celestial released a gasp- unable to tell if it was of pleasure, relief, or shock at how warm the man's lips were.

Castiel had little personal experience in kissing, but each time he saw the act it reminded him of rabid animals fighting over a broken carcass; how the act would be so desirable, Castiel couldn't even start to fathom. But this was different. With Dean, kissing was completely different. Kissing Dean had left Castiel feeling both the most powerful he'd felt and the most vulnerable. Kissing Dean made Castiel feel like his full angel abilities were returning and he was losing his grace at the same time. He'd thought he was being born, dying, and reborn at the same time; no experience was more freeing to the dark haired angel than the moments passed doing this action. Their lips opened every few moments to breathe, but quickly re-kissed each other, each kiss feeling as raw and passionate as the previous. It felt as though both men wanted to meld into the other's spirit.

Regret clouded Castiel and Dean's minds as the pulled apart from each other. At some point, Dean grabbed Castiel's trench-coat and held the material in his hands as though it was a life line; Castiel as well seemed to change position without realisation; his own hands were tangled in Dean's hair.

Castiel officially noted that the best thing he would ever do was initiate the largest smile Dean Winchester ever had.

"I love you," the words were delivered by Dean's lips with ease as his eyes seemed to become an impossibly more vibrant green. A grateful laugh rang in the warehouse from the angel's chapped lips. Before that moment, Dean didn't know that angels could actually blush. Castiel removed his hands from Dean's hair- leaving the blonde locks (although they were actually too short to be locks) a dishevelled mess- and glided his hands along Dean's skull, stopping when his palms outlined the other's chiselled jaw.

"And I love you," the words sounded reborn between the two, as though they had invented the phrase for each other. The hunter had shut his eyes- probably to fight oncoming tears (which would never fucking happen anyway)- and pressed his forehead against Castiel's. Minutes had passed with the two simply listening to the other's breath in bliss until Castiel pulled back.

"So?" the celestial cocked his head to the side again. Blue eyes were sparkling in wonder as his thumbs tenderly caressed Dean's cheeks. The taller had released a sound that resembled a sigh of relief (or was it awe?) and pressed himself closer to his angel, having their chests touch, making it feel as though they both had two heartbeats.

"It's our last night on Earth," the words were softer than all previous times the Winchester had delivered it, "What are your plans?" seriously pondering about that, Cas couldn't come up with any desired situation. He already had Dean- the only thing he'd ever wanted- what else could he have? He'd lifted his chin barely an inch to reconnect their lips, this time with more force, more desire.

"Well," Castiel's voice was getting considerably huskier with each decibel, "I remember you once swearing you wouldn't let me die a virgin." The angel had remembered the night it actually happened perfectly; how frightened he was in the brothel with a soul he'd never really know- a fact that still brings horror to his mind. He knew he'd be able to lose his virtue to Dean, though. It was his Dean; the righteous man who had literally gone to the pits of hell to save human kind. There was no one he would rather give himself to, "I'm hoping that you are willing to keep that promise."

"Cas, are- are you sure?"

"Dean, there's nothing I'd rather do," the angel had a look of apprehension, "unless, unless you don't want-" his words were cut off by plush lips pressed against his own, lightly biting each moment one of them moved, leaving Castiel to moan slightly at the sensation.

"Of course I want to," Dean avowed, "I finally have you the way I've been dreaming about for five years; I'm not just letting you go." A beam shone on both men's faces before Castiel gripped Dean's hand in his own and led them to the Impala.

As they walked, Dean realised this would be the first time he'd 'make love.'

If this was with anyone else, he'd run for the hills. But this time was different; this time would be worth it.

And he'll be damned if he ever lets Cas go.

~Sorry for not writing in the sex, I know you're all beyond disappointed. I may turn this into a series, however, that has similar drabbles between scenes. I don't know. But I hope you guys liked it!


	2. Bedroom Hymns

~~Wow this took a really long time to update... it probably has something to do with the fact that I'd take a three day break every time I referenced penis... Sorry. I also hope you guys notice how I change writing vernacular to switch between Dean and Cas' perspectives because well, it was easier and I'm honestly not a good enough writer to stay with one narrator. Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Supernatural (obviously) and the intro lyrics are property of Florence Welch & co-writers.~~

_The sweetest submission_  
_Drinking it in_  
_The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns_  
_'Cause this is his body_  
_This is his love_  
_Such selfish prayers and I can't get enough_

Dean had cursed himself. He actually _hated _the impala for not being any closer- which well, was something that never happened- but his hands were in Cas'- which were much more callous than a tax accountant's should be- and at this point, all he wanted was to be alone with the angel, take his clothes off, and take him in every which manner he possibly could.

The two were actually stumbling like desperate teenagers, clumsily running, trying to steal kisses every few moments; the hunter actually thought his kissing had passed the stage of awkwardly clacking teeth after tenth grade.

"You know, we shouldn't rush this much Cas, I'm pretty sure we're gonna end up falling at some point."

"Yeah, but why waste time?" the angel spoken onto the taller's lips, catching them after muttering the last word, swallowing whatever sound it would have made. Dean didn't want to move from the spot, not really- not at all- but well, they couldn't just stay in the middle of a warehouse. The blonde wrapped his arms around Cas' waist and worked to lift the angel so they could move across the lot, but the other refused to leave this position. Cas brought his hands through his hunter's hair- tugging on the locks- and pushed himself ever so slightly on his toes to give himself the higher ground. Goddamn, there was no fucking way Sammy would know Dean could be controlled this easily. Absolutely none. Dean Winchester didn't just submit to someone else like that. There was also no way he'd hear about the _whiny _moan that escaped from Dean's throat as Cas nipped and sucked on his bottom lip. Jesus Christ, he was turning into a chick. Cas' elbows were on top of Dean's shoulders, forcing the two to get impossibly closer, and the angel was making it clear that he wasn't letting the other go so easily.

They were both surprised at how aggressive and enthusiastic the celestial was. Castiel was initially uncomfortable- okay outright petrified- with anything resembling physical connection- and not just from fear of the action itself- he had no idea what type of pleasure he'd derive from or would be able to provide for Dean. The only experience he had were the two kisses he shared with Meg, and the angel wasn't so delusional to pretend he wasn't aware of the hunter's… adventurous past- to put it lightly. With everyone Dean had been with, how could _he_ slightly compare to all of the other people his partner had? It was clear that Dean was enjoying it though- engorging the celestial with pride- and Castiel found the activity to be quite pleasing himself.

Castiel eventually pulled away and grinned when he noticed Dean reflexively move closer in reaction to his emptied lips. Green eyes had then met blue.

"Cas?" the angel hummed in response, "what exactly does Jimmy think of this- you know, using his body to fuck me?" Castiel had chuckled slightly to the blunt tone of the question. It was strange how casually- how lightly- Dean was able to say the statement. It had almost seemed like this was no big deal- although Castiel knew it wasn't the case- and he'd realized that the name of his vessel hadn't been brought up in years.

"I suppose he's thinking 'finally' from where he is," the blonde raised a perplexed brow, "Jimmy's gone, Dean. He isn't trapped inside his head anymore. After Lucifer had detonated us at the apocalypse, he was finally released into his heaven. I'm glad of it; he really deserves to be there. It's a lovely heaven too: nice, serene, but no, it has been just me in this body for the past two years. And I'm positive that he was aware of the feelings I have had for you for quite some time." Dean nodded in understanding. They had resumed their voyage to the impala silently. The two spent the remainder of their walk pretending Dean's arm wrapped around Cas' waist wasn't giving them heart palpitations.

The moment they reached the car felt beyond a godsend as Dean opened the back seat to Baby. He'd imagined this would go a lot smoother, but Cas refused to let things be simple; his hands gripped the taller man's leather jacket and the two toppled into the car, Cas' back making hard contact with the leather seat. It wasn't the most graceful thing they've done, but after reconnecting their lips, they realized neither really cared.

Castiel had suddenly found his teeth around an area of skin on Dean's neck, making the human emit less controllable than content gasps as his muscular hands gripped the seats of the Impala, nails without a doubt leaving impressions. The angel parted from the spot, letting his mouth scan the neck above him, teeth grazing the skin until he ran over a subtly protruding vein. The hunter's breath hitched at the contact, and he briefly lost control of his body weight, making his hips glide across Castiel's. The angel had taken opportunity of his own groan to take in more skin before allowing himself to bite on Dean's neck, his tongue moving over the area at the opposite rhythm of Dean's increasing heart rate.

The grace and skill of Cas' actions were surprisingly expert for a virgin- hell, they were amazing compared to anyone. _Thank god for the pizza man,_ Dean thought to himself. He tightly straddled himself around Cas' waist in order to gain balance, receiving beyond unwholesome noises from the angel's mouth. Christ, Dean couldn't believe that he was about to have sex with a fucking angel, _again._ He was going to hell for this. Again. There was no doubt about it. But he couldn't bring himself to give a damn, honestly. The hunter let go of the leather seats and used one hand to gently lift Cas from his position and the other to push the dirty trench-coat off of his angel's body. His angel, he repeated in his head with wonder as his hands travelled to the hem of Cas' hospital shirt. A moment of hesitation had- not for the first time that night- pulled Dean back from his action. The hunter scanned the angel's body, inhaling with regret as he processed how… broken Cas looked in his psych patient attire. Well, his face was much brighter than it had ever been- and no argument with more sanity- but the fact that he was in the hospital outfit at all left sharp pains in Dean's chest. The fact that Cas had gone insane, that Cas had the visions of Lucifer, that Cas was wearing that outfit… Cas was in the hospital _for _Dean- he'd taken on that insanity because of Dean. It was Dean's fault that Cas was that broken.

"Don't blame yourself for that," Castiel murmured gently against Dean's neck, softly kissing up and along his jaw line, "Don't you dare blame yourself for that; I've told you before: there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and I meant it. What I did for Sam… it wasn't your fault. I _wanted _to do it. I care about Sam- and I should have never done what I did to him. It was my mess; I needed to be the one to clean it up."

"Cas-"

"It's fine, Dean, really," the angel paused for a few moments and looked down at the tanned hands gripped on his shirt. His head leaned to his signature tilt, "You know you don't have to take off my clothes. I mean I could always-"

"Don't you dare," the gravelly voice hardened, "don't you_ dare _take this from me. Fucking hell, I've wanted this for so long- I've wanted this for _years_; you cannot just use your angel mojo to take our clothes off. That's bullshit and I'm not having it."

"Well then it's only fair we start removing yours as well," Cas' eyes were growing darker as he removed the calloused hands from his torso and pushed off the leather jacket and gray button-up off broad shoulders. The two proceeded to strip off their own shirts and drank the sight of the other. Cas' luminescent torso may have been slim, but it definitely didn't lack muscle, and Castiel wasn't at all surprised with Dean's build. The angel brought his hands to Dean's toned chest- one hand starting at the anti-possession tattoo- and ran them over the hunter's torso as though his hands were his only line of sight; feeling was the only way he could know Dean was real- the only way he could find to make him familiar with the body in front of him. He'd closed his eyes as his hands contoured every muscle and dip of Dean's body. The tanned skin was simultaneously warm and covered in goose-bumps, paradoxically smooth and rough, foreign yet the most familiar surface Castiel had felt. He found that he would have been able to just do this- feel the physique in front of him- forever until he felt a rough scar on Dean's left bicep. He'd suddenly stopped the movements in reaction. His eyes opened as his fingers traced the regrown skin with the lightest touch, quickly noting it was an obvious burn imprint. He'd allowed his palm to cover the scar, noticing the edges of his hand matched the contour of the scar. The burn was a perfect mould of his hand- he had been the cause of the mark. His brow furrowed.

"Did I do that?" the voice was soft, losing its coarse vernacular. Dean looked over at where Cas' hand was placed, releasing a tentative breath.

"Yeah," the reply was identical in tone, "I noticed it after I came back from hell. It freaked me the fuck out, believe me. I had no idea where it came from; like I was left scarless after being torn apart by hellhounds, but was left with a burn mark? I guess that when you pulled me out of hell, you were holding me just a little too hard." Dean noticed the shameful tint glaze over Cas' visage, "Don't be upset by it. I mean, it didn't exactly feel like satin sheets, but it didn't hurt. And I kind of like it now, you know? First of all, it's beyond badass, it was cheaper than a tattoo, and… it makes me feel marked, you know? I mean, it's _your _mark. I like that it's a symbol that I'm yours. I totally don't actually see it that way, I mean, I may be in love with you, but I'm still my own fucking person and the idea is way too chick-like for me. But it's still nice, you know? Feeling like I'm kinda cared for."

"You're beyond cared for… and I know what you mean," the angel brought his hand to caress Dean's cheek as the hunter took his turn examining the other. He'd found himself captivated by a scar that had covered the entirety of Cas' chest, shaped like a sigil. Recognizing it as the same one that he'd seen used numerous times to force angels out of any vicinity, the hunter's fingers cautiously traced over the lines, ghosting over them as though an actual touch would end up sending the angel out of his grasp (something that only now Dean could admit was his worst fear). Dean's fingers and eyes concurrently scanned the symbol in wonder- oblivious to the shivers coursing through Castiel's body. Suddenly every sacrifice Dean made for other people seemed insignificant. This was a new level of protection and selflessness. Dean was aware the angel had done a lot for him in the past- he couldn't even attempt to lie to himself and state otherwise- but this… this was something completely different. Angels may or may not be more resistant to pain than a human, but that didn't mean all Cas felt out of that would have been like a pin-prick.

Suddenly whatever words he could say out of… what was Dean even feeling- gratitude? sorrow? apology?- words resembling any of those were lost and for the first time, Dean Winchester found himself speechless.

Luckily, Castiel was in sync with this and connected their lips together in a tenderness that was a frequent element to this night. As the lips collided with more intensity, the physical connection between the two were showing how each felt about the other more than an eternity of spewing infinite words ever could.

Their hands were gradually brought back to their previous agenda. Castiel's fingers were scrambling into knots while unbuckling Dean's jeans, practically tripping when he pushed the fabric off Dean's waist. The angel had only realized their hips were touching the moment Dean lifted his up. There was a tinge of disappointment at the sudden separation, but any thought of that had ceased when the angel was finally able to pull down his partner's pants and boxers. Castiel was filled with desperation, wanting nothing more than to examine Dean's recently made nude physique but was cut off, his head slamming down on the car seat. Dean had 'accidentally' brushed his hand across Cas' erection as he moved to remove the angel's pants, sending the angel in a wave a novel sensation that left him momentarily baffled. A smirk appeared on the hunter's face at how affected Cas was by the action. Castiel instinctively pushed his hips up, desperate for a repeat of the contact. Dean had managed to- with extreme difficulty- ignore the physical- as well as vocal now- begs from the angel underneath him as he slid the loose hospital pants off of the celestial.

"I need you to lift your hips," Dean whispered, fumbling under the Impala's back seat to get a bottle of lube. Castiel tilted his head to the side.

"What is the purpose of that?"

"Just trust me, Cas. I'm going to be as careful as I can, but that's only gonna work so much. It'll help," Castiel's eyes were suddenly submerged in fear- he wasn't expecting sex to be this… complicated, "Hey, hey. You'll be fine." Dean's left hand caressed the side of Cas' face, relieving the tension held in the angel's shoulders, "Cas, I'm going to do everything I can to keep from hurting you, and fuck, you probably won't even get sore afterwards… but if you don't want-"

"Dean just… give me a moment." Castiel closed his eyes before taking a couple therapeutic breaths. The hunter was patient- making sure he wouldn't rush this moment- and waited until his angel had kissed him, giving silent permission to prepare him.

Dean made sure he was tender in his movements, gently kissing the angel's jawline, neck, and collarbone in a pattern as his lube covered fingers stretched out Cas' entrance. The sounds Castiel made had resembled moans, cries, screams, whimpers, and anything else that would fit the noise spectrum. Dean could tell he was doing all he could to restrain from using his natural voice, which the hunter was thankful for. After stretching the angel as much as he knew he had to, Dean aligned his hips with Cas' before gently bringing the angel around Dean.

Entering the angel was one of the most surreal moments of Dean's life. It wasn't Dean's first time with a man- male body- but the sensation of Cas around him made his entire body feel like it was on fire. He'd soon found a steady rhythm to move at and the two were blind to anything that wasn't the other's body, deaf to any sound that didn't come from their lover's mouths, and just overall out of contact with everything. Nothing in the universe had existed but the other.

The moment they started, Dean knew neither would last that long; Cas' body trembling with each proceeding thrust, and Dean just being satisfied by the angel's reaction. Normally he'd feel embarrassed, wanting desperately to prove his superior masculinity.

Castiel soon felt his vision become blurry- blinding- as his back arched and his body had its release. The angel's orgasm had transgressed from an outcry to a high pitched wail- which the hunter as oblivious to from his own orgasm.

Dean had sat up; his hand running through Castiel's dark and sweat drenched hair. The angel had his head buried in the crook of the blonde's shoulder, trying to regain his senses.

"You alright?"

"I'm," Castiel paused to return to his normal breathing pattern, "I'm beyond alright, Dean." The angel shifted his weight to look his hunter in the eye, "That was… a _lot_ better than I imagined it was going to be. Thank you. Did- were you satisfied by our experience?" the hunter chuckled at Castiel's uncertainty.

"I'd say so," Dean closed the gap between them once more, connecting their lips with a new familiarity. He knew that this habit was already going to be a hard one to break.

There's enough to say that if this was their last night, Dean would die having no regrets.

~~Wow that was actually the worst ending, I'm sorry. If there was ever a necessity to show why a lesbian shouldn't write m/m smut, this would be the prime example. Thank you for sticking that out until the end wow I really hope you still liked it?

Also sorry for shoddy characterization hopefully they weren't _too _OOC~~


End file.
